To be Southern, Part 1

According to my birth certificate, yes, I was born a Yankee. After all, a New England state is about as Yankee as you can get. But if you test my blood, you’ll find Southern Rebel through and through. And, for the record, I am quite proud of that.

I’m not just happy to be able to stamp “Southern” on my forehead because the accent is so much nicer than all the nasally Yankee ones or because I know that tea is sweet and cornbread is not. I am happy to say that my ancestors fought in the Second War of Independence (properly so called, but if you’re a Yankee and don’t know what that is I am referring to the “Civil War”) and that they understood what freedom truly is (not what the government dictates it to be). But we’ll get on that soap box in Part 2 of this three part series.

I am also happy to be able to impart Southern on my Yankee daughter. In so doing, the first thing I am quick to do is correct Ed’s Pittsburgh accent. Although it is not strong, he does have one. And when he says funny things like “dahn” and “warsh”, I quickly tell Emry the word is “doooowwwwn” and “waaaaash”. (Note the long accent on those vowels.) While I don’t mind her saying things like “you can’t get there from here” (which is true in Pittsburgh) and “nebby” (because that is just such an appropriate word), we are having in our vocabulary the wonderful all-inclusive “y’all” and proper understanding of “it’s in yonder”. (Yes, Yankees, that is a place!)

The second thing we will know is certain Southern food. Over the last couple of weeks, she has been introduced to coleslaw (which she really liked, even though I wasn’t sure two-going-on-three teeth would be enough to chew cabbage) and grits. Eventually, things like fried chicken and pecan pie will be added to our repertoire. The one thing she’ll have to go to Grandma’s for is fried okra. Sadly, there are some things the Yankee in me conquers – fried okra is gross!

The most important thing of all, though, is a proper understanding of the War Between the States. I was reminded of this recently as I watched a television mini series called Mercy Street (more on that in Part 2). To the winner go the spoils…and so the writing of history. Let’s get it straight that we Southerners are not sore losers and simply won’t let the outcome of the War go. We lost. It’s over. I get it. But history tells us that the War was fought over slavery, which is like saying our Founding Fathers pledged their “lives, fortunes and sacred honor” because the British taxed them for a hot drink made from leaves. I’m not down-playing the evils of slavery any more than I’m underestimating the importance of the Boston Tea Party, but I will equate Abraham Lincoln to Mad King George. Tyrants both. So there.

History is a lesson. But if we don’t learn the lessons given, we are doomed to repeat them. If the abolition of slavery was the all-encompassing point of the War Between the States, then why is human trafficking/slavery today in the United States worse now than 150 years ago? I want Emry to know that there is more to freedom than representation in Congress, or voting, or the right to bear arms. Her Southern forefathers fought against the tyranny of Great Britain 250 years ago, and they fought against the tyranny of centralized government 100 years after that. Sadly, they lost that fight…but it was a fight worth having. And I want her to know it.